


Barely Breathing

by Plucky_Brit



Series: Jemma & Lance Siblingverse [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU where Philinda adopt everyone, Angst and Comfort, F/M, Fair bit of angst, Jemma & Lance are siblings, Jemma Simmons Needs a Hug, Lance is in the marines, mama may, sisters loving each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-05-21 03:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14907893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plucky_Brit/pseuds/Plucky_Brit
Summary: The latest instalment in the Jemma & Lance sibling verse.Jemma has settled in to life at the Coulsons. She misses her brother more than anything, whilst he is on active service, but she thinks she may have finally found a home.When the unthinkable happens whilst Lance is deployed, how will his sister Jemma cope?I am terrible at summaries but come on in if you like some mama may, some angst, and some good old fashioned girls supporting girls





	1. Chapter 1

Melinda is home when her daughter’s phone rings. She doesn’t think anything of it at first, Bobbi gets calls all the time, but then she hears a strange sound coming from Bobbi’s throat, like a pained whimper, and she’s across the room in a heartbeat. Bobbi’s clutching the phone to her ear, face pale, breaths tight. Mel knows, in her heart, that it can only be about one thing. She’s imagined this scenario over and over in her head since Hunter got deployed, her nightmares haunted with his cheeky grin in the middle of a hopeless war. She never truly thought it would be real though. The phone slips from her daughter’s hand and in one smooth movement she picks it up from the floor and at the same time slides onto the sofa beside Bobbi, wrapping an arm around her.

“Hello?” She says, her voice tight with tension.

The man on the other end doesn’t sound too confused. He must be used to making these phone calls. “Who am I speaking to?” He asks, his voice kind. 

“Melinda Coulson. I’m Bobbi’s mother. What…what’s happened?” She whispers, half hoping he won’t hear her question and fully hoping that she’s imaging this all wrong.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news about Officer Hunter. Your daughter has been listed as one of his next of kin. He’s missing in action.”

Mel can’t breathe for a moment. But then she feels Bobbi burrowing into her side, her tears soaking her shirt, and she remembers the pale faced girl who has only recently joined their family, who gave Mel a tentative hug goodbye before going into school for the first time ever this morning. They’re going to need her. “Okay.” She croaks, unsure what she’s meant to say now.

“We’ll be sending an officer over to help explain the situation to you tomorrow. He’ll give you more information then. At the moment, all I can say is that Officer Hunter and his patrol were ambushed late last night, and the whole patrol are MIA.” He sounds like he’s reading from a script. He’d probably called every family from Hunter’s patrol. Shit. Would he call Jemma too, if she was also listed as next of kin?

“Have you called anyone else about Lance?” She asks softly, and she feels Bobbi stiffen against her as she clearly realises the same thing. If Jemma had already been called… it didn’t bear thinking about.

“No ma’am. My next call is Officer Hunter’s sister.”

Melinda gives a sigh of relief. “Please… please don’t do that. Let us tell her?” She half pleads, unsure of what the policy with this kind of thing was. He makes a noise like he isn’t sure and she quickly continues. “She’s sixteen, and she’s at school. You can’t do that to her. She lives with us, we should be the ones to tell her, not some faceless voice at the end of a phone who sounds like he’s reading from a script.” She lets her fear outride her grief. It’s easier to shout at this man that to think about the words he’d just uttered.

“It’s not protocol ma’am.” He sounds pained. “We have to guarantee that the news is given to the people that our men want it given to.”

“Please!” She begs. “Could you just wait a bit? We’ll go get her from school now, and you can call back in a couple of hours?”

 There is a short silence and then: “I can work with that.”

“Thank you.” She croaks. Then she hangs up the phone.

“Mom.” Bobbi chokes out, and Mel drops the phone entirely and gives her daughter the biggest hug she can, cradling her in her arms like she’s a little girl again. And Mel wished she was a little girl again, because then she could fix this. Then Bobbi would have trusted her and believed her when she said was going to be okay. “What do I do mom?” She asks desperately, clutching at her. 

“He’s missing, Bobs. He’s not…” She can’t bring herself to say it. “You’re so strong, Bobbi, and I _know_ that you will get through this. You don’t give up on him yet, sweetheart. The army are sending someone tomorrow and we’ll know so much more. Hold on till tomorrow.” She prays that her words are enough.

“What about Jemma?” Bobbi whispers. “She’s gonna… it’s going to kill her.”

“I need to go pick her up, sweetie, before the army call her. I’m going to call dad now, and then I’ll go get her.” Mel says calmly, trying to make out like she had some semblance of control over everything. Bobbi nods numbly, so it must be working.

She calls Phil, just like she said he would, and he sounds both devastated and determined at the same time, promising he’s already leaving the hospital and will be home within minutes. She holds Bobbi close to her whilst they wait, trying to ease the worry from her daughter.

Phil rushes through the front door like the house is on fire, and he joins them on the sofa, his arms around them both. Mel doesn’t want to get up. She wants to pretend this isn’t happening. And then Bobbi chokes out ‘Jemma’, and Mel knows she has to go and probably ruin Jemma’s life. 

She rehearses what she’s going to say in the car, watching herself in the rear view mirror to make sure her face isn’t doing anything weird. She doesn’t let herself cry. She’ll save that until her and Phil are alone, and she doesn’t have to hold up her kids anymore. Her kids _plural_ , because in the last few months that is exactly what Jemma has become. One of her own. And she thinks that what she’s doing now, what she’s about to do, is going to be the worst she’ll ever hurt her own child.

The school receptionist looks sombre, and Mel knows that her face isn’t hiding anything. The woman doesn’t question anything, just promises to go and get Jemma. Mel has two more minutes to desperately prepare, to work up the courage to do this terrible thing.

“Melinda?” Jemma’s voice cuts through her internal misery. 

“Jemma!” She says with a forced cheeriness that Jemma of course sees right through. Mel sees the exact moment of realisation on Jemma’s face, the second she clocks that something terrible must have happened. The girl’s face goes shockingly pale and Mel puts out a hand to steady her. “Jemma.” She says again, not bothering to hide her emotion this time.

Jemma makes a gasping noise, her mouth opening and closing and nothing coming out, and the receptionist leaves the room and then its just the two of them, neither saying anything. The silence grows and grows, and Mel can hardly form the words in her own mind, let alone voice them to the child she loves.

But she does. “He’s missing, Jemma.” She breathes softly. If she thought Jemma was pale before she was wrong, because now Jemma is the same colour as the stark white walls and going paler still, swaying on her feet. Mel walks her to a chair and sits them both down, unsure of whether to wrap Jemma in her arms like she had done to Bobbi, or to offer some other comfort.

“He’s…” Jemma begins, and her voice is tight and high, like someone’s squeezing her throat. She stops and tries again. “He… is he….” She can’t get the words out, and Mel can’t stop herself any more from sliding an arm around Jemma’s shoulder and bringing her close. Jemma slumps bonelessly against Mel.

Eventually she leads Jemma out to the car, buckling the belt for her when Jemma’s hands make no move from where they are limply in her lap. Mel can hear the high, breathless noises she is making, not quite a whimper, but probably heading that way. She drives home as fast as she can, and by the time they get there Jemma has still not managed to say a sentence, but there are now fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

Bobbi is waiting outside the house, and she jogs out to the car as they pull up, coming around to Jemma’s side. Jemma makes no move to get out as Mel reaches over to unclip her belt for her. Bobbi opens the door, looking anxiously at Mel, unsure what to do, and Mel kicks into action, exiting the car and coming around to Jemma’s side as well. “Come on sweetheart.” She says softly, taking both of Jemma’s hands in hers. Jemma finally makes to stand up, but Mel can see just how badly her legs are shaking and she scoots an arm around Jemma, taking her weight as they walk into the house.

She leads Jemma to the sofa, and calls for Phil to put the kettle on, willing the girl to make some kind of response. She doesn’t do anything, although when Bobbi sits beside her on the sofa Jemma leans into her touch, letting Bobbi hug her tightly. She leaves them on the sofa, gives them a tiny bit of space, and joins Phil in the kitchen.

His back is to her, but she can tell he is crying. She wraps herself around him and he turns, returning the hug, wiping his eye stoically. “Jesus.” He growls.

“How do I make it okay?” She asks him desperately, thinking of her two beautiful girls in the next room. He doesn’t answer because they both know she can’t. It’s not going to be okay for a very long time if Hunter isn’t found.

“He’s missing, Mel. He’s not dead.” He says the word that Mel couldn’t. “And we need to hold onto that. Bobbi is, she already told me. And Jemma will too. We’ll hold onto that.”

Mel nods, letting herself be held by her husband until the kettle clicks. She goes through the motions, pulling out the tea that Jemma loves and making two cups, one for Bobbi, one for Jemma. “Nat and Skye need to be picked up soon. And the army are going to call Jemma and tell her themselves.”

“That’s okay. I’ll go get the girls. You stay here. And when they call, you’ll be with her. It’s okay.” He says again, and he sounds calm and organised. It soothes her. She picks up the two mugs and walks back next door. Jemma seems to be more _here_ again. She’s moved so that she is hugging Bobbi back, and the two girls are whispering to each other, desperate words of comfort.

Bobbi manages a watery smile when she sees her mother, and the two girls pull away from each other. Jemma manages a scratchy thank you when she takes the mug from Mel’s hands. 

“How are you girls doing?” She asks tentatively. Bobbi shrugs.

“We’re holding on till tomorrow.” Bobbi says firmly, and she’s proud of the fight in her daughter’s voice. She hugs them both, because she thinks they both need it, and Jemma hangs on desperately, lingering in Mel’s warmth.

Phil brings Skye and Nat home soon after, and she knows Phil has told them both when she sees their red rimmed eyes. They both make a beeline for the girls on the sofa, sisters looking out for sisters.

The house is oddly silent. No one is quite sure what to say. Then Jemma’s phone rings, and Mel’s heart sinks because they all have this faint hope that they’ll say they’ve found him, and deep down she knows that that is not what this call is.

Jemma answers, her face unreadable as the man at the other end talks. Then she thanks him, in a very small voice, and hangs up. Everyone looks at her and she shrugs. “They just wanted to make sure I know. And they’re um, sending someone at 10am tomorrow.” She shuts her eyes tightly, clearly fighting back tears. “I’m, um, I’m going to bed now.”

Mel doesn’t want her to go to bed yet. She knows that Jemma will just lie awake, imagining every possible scenario. She knows, because she’ll be doing exactly the same later, but she’ll have Phil, and Jemma will be all alone. “Lets have a quick dinner first, sweetie.” She says quickly, and is relieved when Jemma doesn’t protest.

She can hear Nat and Skye talking quietly as she moves into the kitchen, rummaging in the fridge for something simple. She’s not surprised when Bobbi comes in behind her, opening the bread bin and pulling out a loaf.

“How are you doing, Bobs?” Mel asks, and Bobbi shrugs.

“I’m not sure.” She mumbles, buttering the bread half-heartedly. “I don’t think I’ve really registered it.”

They work together in silence, putting the sandwiches together quickly. Then the front door slams, and Skye darts into the kitchen, looking panicked.

 “Jemma's gone." 


	2. Chapter 2

“Jemma just left.” She announces, and Bobbi’s knife drops from her hand.

“Where’s she going?” Mel asks quickly, glancing into the sitting room and seeing neither Phil nor Nat. She hopes they’ve gone after her.

Skye shrugs. “Fitz, maybe? I don’t know. She didn’t say anything, just got up and left. Dad and Nat followed her out.”

May swears, ignoring the surprise on her children’s faces. Jemma is a mess right now, they all are, and she’s terrified that she’ll do something foolish. The front door slams and the three of them look up, each praying to see Jemma. Instead Nat rushes in,  face white.

“She just took off. We lost her at the park, in the trees. Dad’s taking the car now, he’s going to drive around whilst we look on foot.”

Mel nods, trying to keep calm. The light is fading outside, and for the first since moving to this sleepy suburb she hates how big the park at the end of the road is. They march down the road, a half jog really, eyes scanning the streets in case Jemma tries to return. “Nat, Bobbi, you two stick together, Skye can come with me. Stay in touch.”

They split at the tree line where Phil and Nat lost her initially, following the two faint forks. May pulls out her phone as she walks, pulling up the Fitz family’s number. It rings twice before a soft Scottish accent answers. It’s Fitz’s mother, a gentle, kind woman who Melinda has been getting to know since she’s had her own mini genius to look after. “Karen, it’s Melinda.” She cuts off Karen’s friendly greeting. “Do you have Jemma with you, by any chance, or has she maybe spoken to Leo?”

_“She’s not here. Is everything okay Melinda?”_ Karen sounds worried, and Mel, with a heavy heart, brings the gentle woman up to speed. Karen leaves the phone to ask Leo if he’s heard from his best friend, returning to the handset all too soon. _“I’m sorry Melinda, he’s not heard anything. We’re coming to help you look though. You’re in the park?”_

Mel feels tears of gratitude burning in her eyes, and swallows thickly. “Yes, on the East side.”

_“We’ll take it from the other side then, meet you in the middle.”_

Mel finds comfort in Karen Fitz’s calm voice, thanking her before hanging up. Skye is ahead of her by 10 metres or so, squinting in the dusky light. They should have brought torches, should have been more organised about the whole thing. Skye is shouting Jemma’s name, and Mel can hear the fear in her youngest daughter’s voice.

They search for over an hour, until it becomes too dark and they have to stumble out of the trees, back to the well light road. She calls Phil as they wait for Bobbi and Nat to emerge. He’s had no luck either, despite driving every road and trail around the park and the surrounding streets.

Bobbi and Nat appear from the trees, and the streetlights light up Bobbi’s tear stained face. Her oldest is a trembling wreck, reaching for her mum like a scared child. Mel holds her tight.

“We have to find her, mum” Bobbi sobs, “She can’t be alone again.” Mel can feel Bobbi’s heart breaking, and she thinks it might just kill her. She squeezes her daughter close to her, steeling herself to stay strong.

“Come on girls. Lets go home, get some torches. I’m calling the police. I don’t want you in the park at night. It’s not safe.” It’s not safe for Jemma, either, and Mel prays the girl has ended up somewhere safe.

When they walk through the door, she can feel everyone’s desperate hope that Jemma has made her way home. No such luck. She calls the police whilst Nat makes tea for the others. The woman on the end of the line is sympathetic, the panic in Mel’s voice evidently clear, and promises to have an officer at their house in a hour. Mel wants to scream. So much could happen in an hour. Jemma could trip in the wood and break her leg, or she could stumble onto some nefarious activity going on in the secluded space, or she could be headed somewhere else entirely.

The phone rings almost immediately after she hangs up, and she answers inhumanly fast. It’s Mrs Fitz, whose somber tone is everything Mel needs to know. Karen promises they’re going to keep looking, that they’re going back for the car.

The wait for the police is agonisingly slow. Phil comes by and picks up Nat and Skye to join him in the car and continue the search, so it’s just Mel and Bobbi, and the house is too big. Mel paces, walking from the kitchen to the sitting room, looking for something to do, to fill her mind. She plumps cushions and picks up a couple of glasses that have been left, and heads back to the kitchen.

Bobbi is seated on one of the kitchen island’s bar stools, head in her hands, sobbing silently.

Mel is across the room in a heartbeat, gathering her daughter into her arms and wishing she could do _something_. But there’s nothing. She looks down at the counter, and see’s Bobbi’s phone sitting there face up and unlocked, with Hunter’s contact pulled up.

“I wasn’t thinking.” Bobbi sobs out, finally, pulling back from Mel and turning her phone over, hiding Hunter’s face. “All I could think about was that I needed to call him and tell him that Jemma’s taken off and then…” She trails off, leaving the obvious unsaid.

There’s a knock on the door, and Melinda and Bobbi both leap to their feet in their haste to get there. Bobbi gets there first, and Mel sees her visibly deflate as she realises it’s the police officer.

The woman is sympathetic as Mel explains what has happened. “Does she have her phone on her?”  
  
“Yes, but she’s not answering and now it’s going straight to voicemail.” Bobbi explains desperately, brandishing her own phone at the officer.

“I’ll do a quick phone trace. It will give me the location of the last place it was used, so with a bit of luck she’s not moved too far since it was turned off.” The officer says calmly, opening up the case she was carrying, pulling out a tablet, and handing it to Mel so that she can input Jemma’s number.

Bobbi leans against Mel’s shoulder as a wheel spins on the tablet, and Mel can feel the tension in her daughter. She jumps when the tablet makes a sharp ping, staring desperately at the screen. A map pops up, with a pin marking what Mel guesses is Jemma’s last known location.

“Right, this is showing her last known location as at St Christopher’s Church. Is that somewhere she’s likely to be?” The officer looks expectantly at Mel. Melinda shakes her head, baffled. Jemma’s never shown the slightest interest in religion before. In fact, she distinctly remembers Jemma proclaiming her atheism just last week, when a news broadcast had talked about Christianity. She shakes her head, standing anyway.

“Quite the opposite. But let’s go check it out anyway.” She looks at Bobbi, who shrugs, looking equally baffled.

The officer offers to give them a lift, but Melinda declines, preferring the normality of her own car. A police car is too ominous to even think about.

The drive to the church is painful, the atmosphere in the call almost unbearable. Mel has never felt so helpless. Bobbi calls Nat and updates her, promising to call back the second they know more.

They pull up, and Bobbi is out of the car before the engine is even off, running up the steps to the church, up to the large wooden doors. Mel can tell from where she sits in the car that they’re locked, a padlock screaming defeat hangs from the bar passing across the door, barring entry. She gets out of the car, climbing the steps to join Bobbi, who has tears streaming down her face.

  
“where is she, mom?” Bobbi sobs. “She needs us. She can’t be alone right now.”

Mel has to swallow before she can speak, not sure she trusts her own voice. “Let’s look around, sweetie. It’s a big place. Maybe she’s outside, in the graveyard maybe.” Mel shudders at the thought. She’s never liked graveyards, and the thought of Jemma, out there in the darkness, makes her skin crawl.

Bobbi looks at her suddenly, with something that could almost be hope, if it wasn’t clouded with such sadness. “Of course, mom, you’re a genius.” She takes off around the back, to where the graveyard is, and Mel follows, confused.

They come around the side of the church, through the gate to the graveyard. It’s a dark night, with no moon to illuminate the stones, but Mel thinks she can just make out the trees from the wood on the far side, meaning that Jemma could have crossed from their house to here without much trouble. She felt a stab of hope, before realising that Jemma might have just turned off her phone here and kept walking, or thrown away her phone here, or someone could have taken it from her and… Mel shut off that train of thought quickly.

Bobbi was going up and down the lines of stones now, methodically scanning the dark shadows, squinting. Mel stepped out to join her when Bobbi gave a sudden shout and took off running, throwing herself onto the ground at the far end of a row of stones, where Melinda couldn’t see her any more. Panic welling in her chest, Mel took off too, looking for her daughter, imagining her disappearing down an open grave.

She rounds the end of the line, and lets out a gasp of relief.

Bobbi is crouched on the ground, her arms wrapped around Jemma’s shuddering frame. She can hear the younger girl’s ragged breathing from where she was standing.

“Jemma…” Melinda breaths out, a wave of exhaustion crashing over her as the relief soaks in.  “Oh God, Jemma.” She murmurs, mostly to herself. Bobbi is still hugging Jemma closely, and Mel isn’t sure that either of the girls have realised that she is there.

She takes a step back, pulling out her phone and dialling Phil. The phone doesn’t even ring once before he’s answered. “We’ve found her, Phil.” Melinda breathes. “We’ve got her.”

_“Seriously? Jesus. Thank God. Where are you?”_

“We’re at St Christopher’s, in the graveyard.”  
  
_“Huh._ ” She can hear his confusion, and she shares it too. She turns back to Jemma, trying to figure out why she ended up here, and then she sees the name on the stone that Jemma is crouched at the foot of.

_Elizabeth Anne Simmons_

_Wife, Mother and Daughter._

_Missed always. Loved always._

_1976-2012_

It all makes a heart-breaking amount of sense. She doesn’t even realise she is crying, the tears that have been just beneath the surface all day finally spilling out as she explains it to Phil. She can hear his breath catching, as the realisation of just how devastatingly sad this whole thing is, of how utterly alone Jemma must feel right now, because although she loves the girl as much as she loves her other children, she knows how much Jemma has struggled to feel at home with them. Home for Jemma has always been Lance, and now that’s the worst unknown.

She crouches down, filling the small gap between the two girls. Bobbi leans into her on one side, and to her surprise, Jemma fills the other side.

“I’m so sorry, Melinda.” She sobs out, the words barely audible between her heaving gasps. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… what do I do? What do I do now?” Desperation sits heavily in Jemma’s every word, and Mel has no answer.   

**Author's Note:**

> I have the next chapter all written and ready to go, so get ready for part 2 next week!


End file.
